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Neither Castelan nor his solicitor replied. Jasper pulled out a chair and sat.

“I heard your confession to Miss Spencer, and I have a full, detailed confession from Mary Keating. You’re an intelligent man, Castelan. The game is up, and you know it.”

Castelan scoffed. “Mary would say anything to save herself.”

“Perhaps. But what of the two individuals at her address on Stamford Street who told my constables they saw a man enter, then leave, the building in a rush shortly before my sergeant and I arrived and found her wounded? I am confident the witnesses, given the chance, will recognize you as that man.”

The solicitor touched Castelan’s arm, an indication for his client to remain silent.

“Your agency’s records are being collected as we speak, Mr. Castelan. I believe they will verify what Mary Keating and your detective, Lars Benson, have already stated—that Victoria Herrington, née Blake, hired your agency to investigate a missing brooch in April of 1882. Benson investigated, and from his report, you discovered much about Victoria’s wealth and her lack of family. You designed a way to get your hands on her fortune without getting your own hands dirty. You placed Mary within Victoria’s household as a maid, and then, when Mary knew her mistress’s schedule, you arranged for Samuel Edwards to meet her at Regent’s Park as Rupert Herrington.”

Castelan’s smug arrogance fell off, but still, he did not speak.

Jasper sat forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “The bounty wasn’t what you thought it would be. We have the probate records. We know the settlement turned out to be disappointing. Not only that, but Samuel and Mary disagreed that you should take half of the spoils, leaving them with a quarter each. They had been the ones doing all the work and taking all the risks.”

The private detective remained stoic and silent, while his solicitor looked increasingly uncomfortable.

“Then came the second marriage scheme involving Augusta Hart. They agreed to it, but as time went on, Samuel and Mary wanted more of an equal split. Mary came to your offices, petitioning for more money. You denied her at first. But on her second visit, you made Mary a different offer: Instead of splitting the reward three ways, you two would cut Samuel out entirely. And permanently. Sebastian Lawlor, you suggested, would be so overwhelmed with grief, he would take his own life.”

“This is all unfounded gossip from a woman who is desperate to avoid execution,” the solicitor barked. “It will never hold up in court without proof.”

He was correct. There was no proof Paul Castelan made any such offer to Mary. Just her confession. Much of it, however, would be supported by evidence.

“Tell me,” Jasper said, “did you know Mary and Samuel married shortly before they undertook this second scheme?”

At this, Castelan’s chin hitched. He had not known about the marriage, just as Mary had stated earlier at St. Thomas’s.

“They didn’t tell you, worrying that you would not trust them to properly act the parts of Sebastian Lawlor and the maid, Marianna, without attracting suspicion.”

Instead, they’d tucked away their meager savings and wedding bands in a safe deposit box, keeping the memento of their marriage to themselves.

“Mary, of course, told her husband about your idea to eliminate him,” Jasper continued. “Together, they formulated an alternative plan. They would conclude the scheme early. Samuel would flee the house, and Mary would join him three days later, as soon as her departure from the Lawlor household would not be deemed too suspicious. They would then leave London and start fresh elsewhere, with the small fortune Samuel had withdrawn from the Lawlor bank account.”

Mary had laid out the details of their plan in full.

On the first day, Samuel would let a room at a hotel on Ludgate Hill. He would shave to alter his appearance and purchase different clothing for himself at an unassuming secondhand shop. On the second day, he would go to Threadneedle Street. There, he’d access his safe deposit box at Prescott & Company Bank, which Mary explained Samuel had originally opened on the recommendation of Paul Castelan.

On the third day, Mary would quit her position at the Lawlor household and return to the rooms she had secretly continued to lease while employed as a maid—rooms where she and Samuel would meet from time to time during the months he was married to Augusta. There, she would wait for her husband.

But Mr. Castelan had already found Samuel.

“You anticipated Samuel would visit Prescott & Company to retrieve his possessions. So, you waited for him to exit the bank after emptying his safe deposit box. When he did, you followed him. He made it to Creed Lane before you had the opportunity to corner, and then kill, him.”

“I did no such thing,” Castelan said calmly. Predictably too.

“The folding knife you were brandishing at Miss Spencer at St. Thomas’s proves you did.” Jasper withdrew the slip joint blade from the evidence box and opened it.

“Do you see this?” Jasper pointed to where the base of the blade hinged open and locked into place. A brass plate covered the flat top of the wooden handle, which cradled the blade. “You stabbed Samuel Edwards with such force that he was bruised by this plate. The coroner and Miss Spencer noticed a pattern to the bruising. Four round marks, each one three millimeters in size.” Jasper tapped the four small studs that pinioned the brass plate in place, then produced the coroner’s report for Samuel Edwards. “You can look for yourself, of course. You’ll see they are a match.”

“Anyone in the city might own a similar blade,” the solicitor sputtered.

“You are welcome to take your chances making that argument to the judge and jury.” Jasper sat back in his chair, waiting for Castelan to react. The man was conniving and calculating, and surely searching for how to achieve the best possible outcome, given the circumstances and mounting evidence against him.

He turned to his solicitor, and the two men leaned their heads together. After a moment spent whispering back and forth in each other’s ears, they faced Jasper again.

“My client agrees to cooperate on the condition that you advocate on his behalf for a partial verdict, reducing the charges to a non-capital offense,” the solicitor stated.

Jasper had expected nothing less. No man wanted to hang, and Castelan was savvy enough to weasel his way out of an ultimate punishment.